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14 Hatch Held to my ear the egg clicks, then chirps and is silent. The air sac has drawn down. The hours from pip to hatch, days to trace the breaks, to see the shell breached, are agony. It is hard to give birth to yourself. Eggtooth , then beak, then the whole bird emerges. Removed to the brooder she is too new—it hurts to see her damp and matted, how she trembles. In the morning I will unfold her foot; touch each little point of her talons— already sharp to draw blood. ...

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